Hermione's Hope
by Alania Black
Summary: Hermione is finally free from Hogwarts, and looking forward to her whole future ahead of her. Fate, unfortunately, is never that kind.


Believe it or not, I was actually in a good mood when I started writing this.

_**Hope.**_

As she watched the young boy run across the field in his Care of Magical Creatures class on her way to the Dorms for the last time, she found herself swallowed in feelings and memories. Brief flashes of other days and other times, when everything seemed so simple and innocent. She was drowning in a strange feeling, like smoke in her stomach.

It was a confusing mix of nostalgia and revulsion, with the taste of the library (safe and still and silent, dusty books and awe at the wonders of this world and the next just beneath your finger tips) and Quidditch (Faliure and success, fresh grass and a too-hot sun and migranes that you know are coming at the first sight of the sun that morning but you never do anything about).

It was strange, not like the nostalgia she used to feel when she thought back on her quiet pre-Hogwarts life at the Primary School. This was a different feeling, sitting here, looking to the future. She was leaving, this was it, the culmination of seven years of learning and loving and living. She'd miss it, she was scared, she was teetering on the brink of chaos; but right now, she'd never go back. She'd never want to.

It was different now, true. She'd lost friends, she'd gained them. Life seemed duller and grayer in colour now, feelings weren't feelings but smells and tastes and colours that sometimes seemed indecipherable, and she was struggling between excitement and depression, and hormones made everything confusing. But, despite everything, she knew it wasn't as good as she remembered, and she didn't want that again. That longing and impatience.

Now she could see change, and freedom. Before long, she would be doing Magic, then drinking, having sex regularly, not like now when it was embarrasing and so infrequent, staying out late at clubs, or staying up late writing essays…

She had her whole life ahead of her now, now that she was leaving this establishment, this prison, over this hurdle.

She'd loved it, true, she'd loved the learning, the responsibilities and pride and trust, but that was over. She had a different life now. One with choices. She could do what she wanted, she never had to go to school again. She could have a baby, run away and join the circus, anything. She was going to College because she knew that what she wanted to do needed higher educational levels, and because she knew she'd been gifted with more intelligence that most, and that gift shouldn't be squandered, because she knew that better life ahead of her would be easier to achieve with them. But she also knew she could stop at any time. She could live, now, without it.

Hope, naieve hope, built within her again. A feeling - oh how the good ones had become scarce! - of excitement was washing through her. She had a future, she had and option. She had control now, she was in the drivers' seat. She could pull herself out of this emotional and social rut and do… something - anything! The choice was hers.

The memories were just that now. The longing for the past, the sadness, the desires to go back, to dig in her heels and stop this crazy rollercoaster before she fell out of it; it was all gone. In it's place was an inner calm she hadn't ever felt before, and hope for the future, for the life she could have and the person she could be. Hope and excitement filled her, as she sat here listening to her music - older songs, older men singing about amazing women, love and awe, things she had yet to feel but would, one day. It wouldn't be all good, she was an intelligent girl. She knew she'd have to work, she knew it wouldn't be as easy as it was, and she'd mourned that time. But she'd still be doing it for herself, rather than having others do it for her. It wouldn't all come at once, she knew that too, but now she was closer than she'd ever been.

A woman was singing now, songs about the past, nostalgia and lost memories. All gone with the wind.

She felt joyous tears flow, felt the release. She was finally, finally free.

_18-year-old Hermione Granger was found dead by her mother at their family home in Robin Hill yeaterday afternoon. _

_Hermione, a Muggle-Born who had just returned home after completing her NEWTs at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with honors was apparently murdered by Death Eaters. _


End file.
